The sorting

When the train stopped, the entire carriage seemed to spring to life.

The students who had been fairly composed a moment ago suddenly reverted to being first-years.

Some tried to fetch their trunks, some hurried to gather up their owls, some stood up and scattered snacks all over the floor, and some instinctively looked back three times despite leaving nothing behind, afraid they had forgotten something in the compartment.

Clearly, many had forgotten the announcement that someone would deliver their luggage to the school.

"We're here! We're here!"

"Hurry up!"

"Don't block the way!"

Gavin set down his small bag and followed the crowd out.

He was in no hurry.

At times like this, the more people rushed, the more likely something would go wrong.

Especially with a bunch of eleven-year-olds, all wound up and with wildly varying levels of physical fitness. Having them descend into chaos without a stampede was already a miracle of British magical education.

"Don't push. Take it slowly."

As he thought this, Gavin steadied a little boy who had nearly tripped over his own feet.

"Thank you," the boy said, blushing.

"You're welcome. Whatever road you take, safety comes first."

The boy clearly did not quite understand, but he nodded anyway and stumbled off the train.

When Gavin finally stepped onto the platform, his first impression was—cold.

It was the damp chill peculiar to mountain nights, creeping up his trouser legs and through his cuffs, reminding him that he was well beyond the city now.

It was completely dark.

Only a few scattered lights shone in the distance.

The wind blew down from above, carrying moisture and the scent of grass and trees.

Gavin glanced around, about to look for Hogwarts Castle, when a powerful shout came from up ahead.

"First-years! First-years, over here!"

The voice was unmistakably loud, as though it came through a megaphone.

Gavin looked toward the voice and saw a human-shaped hill more than three meters tall.

That moving mountain stood in the darkness holding a lamp, inspiring reassurance and intimidation in equal measure.

"Hagrid," Gavin murmured.

He was bigger in person than in the films.

"Over here! Follow me! Don't fall behind!" Hagrid waved, his voice drowning out every other sound.

The first-years hurried to gather around him.

Their line immediately became crooked, like a caterpillar that had never learned to walk straight.

Gavin followed the crowd, observing as he went.

There were no platform lights, no signs, and no trace of the Muggle world's idea of "public service."

Very typical of the wizarding world.

That was his assessment.

The group headed down a narrow path.

Trees lined both sides, and the footing was slippery. Two first-years nearly fell after only a few steps, but fortunately, there were plenty of people nearby to steady them.

A little farther on, the view suddenly opened up.

An enormous lake lay silently in the darkness.

Black, deep, and almost boundless.

And on the far side of the lake—

Hogwarts Castle stood in silence.

For a moment, many of the children fell quiet.

Even the little girl ahead who had spent the entire walk asking, "Will the sorting be difficult?" stopped with her mouth hanging open.

Soaring towers, tier upon tier of windows, and warm yellow lights shone through the darkness and onto the lake, as though an entire medieval dream had been nailed firmly into reality.

The wind swept across the lake, gently stirring the reflected lights.

"Awe" alone could not capture that feeling.

Hagrid was clearly pleased with the first-years' reaction and gave a gruff chuckle.

"Haven't had enough of looking yet? You'll have plenty of time later! No more than four to a boat! Come on, get in!"

A row of little boats waited by the lake.

They were small but steady, seemingly made especially for young wizards.

Gavin chose a boat at the edge and sat down. Three other first-years joined him: a blond boy, a brown-haired girl, and a skinny boy who looked nervous enough to curl himself into a ball.

No one spoke.

Everyone tried to keep their expressions under control, unwilling to look like country bumpkins, but there was already more to see than their eyes could take in.

Once all the boats were full, Hagrid's moved first.

The others slowly glided out as well, as though pulled by an invisible thread.

No one rowed.

Nor was there any sound of spells.

The boats moved across the lake by themselves, so quietly that only the water could be heard.

The British wizarding world may have gone down a weird tech tree, but some of its features really work, Gavin thought.

The farther the boats went, the larger the castle grew.

At first, it had been only a bright, hazy outline in the distance. Now it resembled a true behemoth slowly raising its head in the darkness.

Lights shimmered in the water, and the towers cast vast shadows.

Soon, the boats passed into the shadow of a jagged rock face.

Hagrid shouted from ahead, "Heads down!"

Everyone hurried to duck.

A moment later, the boats passed through a natural arch beneath the rock face. The water sounded louder in the narrow passage, then light opened up before them as they reached the dock below the castle.

"Out you get! Careful!" Hagrid stepped ashore first and began helping them out one by one.

When Gavin's turn came, Hagrid looked down at him.

"You can manage yourself, can't you?"

"Yes." Gavin nodded.

"Good. Looking lively." Hagrid grinned. "I noticed you've been calm the whole way."

"Mostly because I've thrown up worse before," Gavin answered sincerely.

Hagrid paused, clearly unsure what sort of experience that meant, but laughed anyway.

"You're settling in well, then!"

Beyond the lakeshore stood a long flight of stone steps.

The first-years climbed, panting.

Hagrid led the way, finally stopping in front of an enormous oak door.

He raised his fist and knocked three times.

The door soon opened.

Professor McGonagall stood inside, her expression as stern and proper as ever, as though she had been waiting there for a long time.

"Professor McGonagall, I've brought all the first-years," Hagrid said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I'll take over from here."

Hagrid nodded and stepped aside.

The first-years filed inside.

As they entered, quite a few instinctively held their breath.

The Entrance Hall was immensely tall, with soaring stone walls and burning torches whose warm yellow light lent the whole space an ancient solemnity.

Farther inside lay the Great Hall.

Even from a distance, they could see the masses of candlelight and four long tables arranged in a row, packed with older students, all turning to look their way.

And in front of the High Table at the far end, an absurdly shabby pointed hat rested on a stool.

Professor McGonagall led the first-years into an empty room nearby, then turned to face them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." Her voice was steady and clear. "The sorting ceremony will begin shortly. You will be sorted into your respective Houses. At Hogwarts, your House is more than where you sleep. It represents your honor, responsibilities, and companions for the next seven years."

She briefly introduced the four Houses.

Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin.

Every first-year listened attentively.

A few had already begun discreetly fixing their hair and collars, as though the sorting would assess their appearance as well as their minds.

After explaining what they needed to know, Professor McGonagall had them form a line, ready to enter the Great Hall.

The moment the doors opened, the noise inside the Great Hall washed over them like a tide.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes turned toward the first-years at once.

Four long tables, decorations in four colors, candles floating high in the air, and an enchanted ceiling—currently reflecting the night sky outside, with stars twinkling slowly overhead as though they were real.

"That starry ceiling is nice." Gavin glanced up.

"If I can figure out how it works, I could put one in the dormitory too."

They walked forward in line.

Their footsteps echoed distinctly through the Great Hall.

The Sorting Hat sat on its stool like a rag.

Then it suddenly began to speak.

A slit opened in its brim, and it began to sing.

Gavin summed up the gist: each of the four Houses had its strengths, there was no need to fear wherever you ended up, and the hat was a professional that would never make a careless choice.

It certainly sang with feeling.

The tune, however, was rather hit-or-miss.

After listening, Gavin could only conclude that music education at Hogwarts probably left something to be desired.

The sorting began.

Professor McGonagall held the list and called out names one by one.

Each first-year called sat on the stool, put on the hat, and waited for it to shout a House name.

Some were sorted the instant the hat touched their heads, while others clearly gave it a few seconds of deliberation. Applause and cheers rose through the Great Hall from time to time.

"Hannah Abbott!"

"Hufflepuff!"

Enthusiastic applause erupted from the Hufflepuff table.

"Susan Bones!"

"Hufflepuff!"

"Terry Boot!"

"Ravenclaw!"

The sorting went a little faster than Gavin had imagined.

Mostly, the children were straightforward enough that their inclinations were obvious at a glance, and the Sorting Hat did not spend much time chatting with them.

Until—

"Gavin Gu!"

The Great Hall fell quiet for a moment.

Mostly because both his first and last names stood out among all the British names.

Quite a few people looked up.

Gavin calmly walked forward and sat down.

Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head.

For an instant, the world went quiet.

Then a slightly peculiar voice, old and sly, sounded inside his mind.

"Oh—interesting."

"Very interesting."

"Let me see... clever, calm, considerable ambition, astonishing powers of observation, and a strong drive to act. Even a hint of something dangerous."

"Quite clearly a Slytherin!"

The Sorting Hat was about to speak aloud and announce its decision.

"W-wait!" Gavin's heart nearly stopped. His gourmet plans had almost died before they could even get off the ground.

"I want to go to Hufflepuff."

"Oh? A longing for good food certainly cannot be ignored." Gavin had persuaded the Sorting Hat to pause. "Looking more closely, you're very clever and would suit Ravenclaw too."

"You're bold and courageous. Gryffindor would suit you just as well."

Hufflepuff, Gavin repeated silently.

"Are you sure? I think you'd find more like-minded companions in Slytherin."

"Hufflepuff!" Gavin pushed aside his stray thoughts and began picturing food.

Steamed lamb, steamed bear paw, steamed deer tail, roast duck, roast chicken, roast goose, pork from the oven, duck from the oven, chicken in sauce, cured meat, and pork belly with preserved egg.

The Sorting Hat paused.

"What's going on?" The Sorting Hat had the uncanny feeling that Helga Hufflepuff had returned.

"All right, all right... If you insist—"

The next second, it shouted:

"Hufflepuff!"

The Great Hall erupted in cheers.

The Hufflepuff table was especially loud. Applause broke out all along it, and several older students stood to wave him over.

Gavin took off the hat. Before he had even found his footing, someone at the Hufflepuff table called out:

"Welcome, little badger!"

The Hufflepuff students were even warmer than Gavin had expected.

When he sat down at their table, someone immediately made room for him, someone else passed him Pumpkin Juice, and both gave him friendly smiles.

Gavin liked this kind of warmth. There was no edge to it.

That's more like it.

This is what a normal dorm should feel like. I'm not going to Slytherin to get caught up in cliques.

A cheer burst from the Gryffindor table, loud enough to nearly lift the ceiling.

"We've got Potter! We've got Potter!"

The chant swelled, and even the candles above the high table seemed to tremble with it.

Gavin had just settled in at the Hufflepuff table. He looked up at the noise.

Black hair, small and thin, glasses. The scar on the boy's forehead was hard to make out by candlelight, but everyone in the Great Hall knew the rest of his story.

"Can't beat the celebrity effect." Gavin knew the scene well enough. It was just fans getting excited.

The young Hufflepuffs beside him craned their necks to look, too, though their own table took it rather more quietly. Some applauded, some whispered to one another, and some were already sneaking glances at the table to see when dinner would start.

Soon, the last few first-years had been sorted.

Dumbledore rose and cheerfully welcomed the students. Nothing seemed to please him more than seeing them all gathered together.

"I would like to say a few words. Here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

"Thank you!"

Everyone cheered and applauded.

The next second, food appeared on the golden plates and in the silver bowls with a pop.

Its aroma filled the length of the table.

Roast beef, roast chicken, sausage, Yorkshire pudding, buttered potatoes, carrots, gravy, bread, pies, and several dishes that looked like Britain's last dutiful concession to the word "vegetable."

The Hufflepuff first-years let out a collective gasp of delight.

Gavin looked down at the food piled in front of him and fell silent for two seconds.

"Better than I expected." He picked up his knife and fork and gave it his verdict in his head. At least the potatoes look like they genuinely want to be eaten.

He cut himself a piece of roast beef, then tried the gravy and pudding. He ate slowly and quietly.

The food wasn't bad. It was generous, even.

But generous was all it was.

As he chewed, he was already putting together another menu without meaning to.

Slice this roast beef a little thinner, give it some spring onion, ginger, garlic, and soy sauce first...

I could do something else with the mashed potatoes. Hot-and-sour shredded potatoes wouldn't cost much, and they'd be quick to make.

The pumpkin could go into porridge or be steamed into pumpkin cakes. Diced carrots would go well with chicken, too. As for all this bread—well, it's not beyond saving. I could at least make a failed version of guokui with it.

Hogwarts Kitchen had House-elves.

And in theory, the House-elves were the most reliable, efficient, and obedient support staff in the entire castle.

Gavin's gaze settled on the piece of roast chicken on his plate and slowly grew distant.

A boy sitting beside him noticed that Gavin had been holding his fork still for some time. "Don't you like dinner tonight?" he asked curiously.

Gavin came back to himself and glanced at him.

The boy had a round face and a very earnest expression, as though he was ready to defend Hufflepuff's food to the bitter end.

"No," Gavin said. "I just think the British Wizarding World has plenty of room for improvement."

The boy blinked. He plainly hadn't understood, but he nodded solemnly anyway, as if Gavin had made an excellent point.

The feast went on for a long time.

Once dessert arrived, the mood in the Great Hall relaxed further. Some students started chatting, some looked over the first-years in the other houses, and some were already struggling to keep their eyes open.

Professor Dumbledore stood again and went over a few rules: no casting spells in the corridors, keep away from the Third Floor Corridor, and so on.

After that, Dumbledore led everyone in the school song. Its chaotic performance came as quite a shock to Gavin.

When it was finally over, the Prefects rose to lead the first-years out. Gavin followed the Hufflepuff crowd from the Great Hall.

They passed through corridors, rounded staircases, and kept heading down.

The farther they went, the quieter and warmer it became.

The Hufflepuff dormitories were not high up but in the lower part of the castle. The stone walls were rounded, the passages narrow, and a few quiet paintings hung along the way. The air smelled of earth, wood, and lingering traces of food.

This is very Hufflepuff, Gavin thought.

Nothing flashy or showy. It felt like a good place to store food and settle in for the winter.

At the dormitory entrance, the Prefect leading them stopped, briefly explained the rules, and told them their beds had already been assigned. Then he let the first-years go in and get settled.

The lights were already on when Gavin opened the door.

The room was round, with a low but comfortable ceiling. Several four-poster beds stood in neat rows, their curtains a warm yellow. Their trunks had been delivered and placed at the foot of each bed. A small fire danced in a copper stove, warming the whole room until it felt like a soft loaf of bread.

"Oh, you're here!"

A curly-haired boy looked up at once, speaking with the enthusiasm of someone chairing a committee meeting.

"I'm Ernie Macmillan."

He sat very straight as he spoke, with a formality unusual in an eleven-year-old. He sounded less like he was introducing himself than presenting an essay.

"Everyone in my family has gone to Hogwarts. Lots of them were Hufflepuffs. I always knew I'd probably end up here, too."

"Gavin Gu." Gavin nodded.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley." A blond boy on the other side raised a hand in greeting. He had delicate features and looked far more relaxed than Ernie. "Honestly, it still feels like a dream."

"Same here," Ernie said at once. "I've known I was a wizard since I was little, but actually coming to Hogwarts feels completely different."

Justin sat on the edge of his bed and smiled.

"I was all set to go to Eton."

"Eton?" Ernie's eyes widened.

"Mm." Justin shrugged. "My family's still trying to understand why I can't go to a normal school and have to come here to learn how to change feathers into things and back again."

Ernie considered this seriously. "In the long run, this is clearly the better choice."

"That's what I told them," Justin said.

Gavin set his Dragon Hide Bag beside his bed and unpacked, listening to them without joining in much.

Ernie spoke with an unconscious gravity, as though he was trying hard to seem dependable.

Justin seemed more like a well-brought-up child from a Muggle family: polite, at ease, and quicker to accept new things.

Not bad.

Judging by my roommates, at least Hufflepuff hasn't given me a survival problem on the first night.

After they had talked for a while, sleepiness began to take over the room.

A full day of travel, the Sorting Ceremony, and the feast were more than enough to make an eleven-year-old body call it quits.

Ernie was the first to change into his pajamas. Before getting into bed, he made sure to say, "We'll probably be very busy tomorrow. We'd better not be late."

"Good point." Justin yawned. "Good night, everyone."

"Good night," Gavin said.

The lights went out.

The fire in the stove slowly dimmed, leaving only a faint amber warmth.

The room soon fell quiet.

First came the sounds of people turning over, then the soft rustle of bed curtains. After a while, Ernie's even, restrained breathing could be heard. Justin fell asleep faster; before long, he made no sound at all.

Gavin lay on his back without moving.

He kept his eyes closed and his breathing light, waiting patiently.

Only after another twenty minutes or so did he open his eyes.

They were wide awake in the dark.

He eased back the covers, got out of bed, and put on his Robes, taking care to make almost no sound as his shoes touched the floor.

He slowly opened the dormitory door, then closed it without a sound.

The corridor was empty. The wall lamps cast a dim yellow light, and the stone floor held a trace of the night's chill. A muffled echo drifted from deep in the castle. It might have been the wind, or a restless figure in a painting turning over in its sleep.

Gavin retraced his steps.

He remembered where to go.

More precisely, he remembered the smell.

As he neared a certain junction, the scent of food grew stronger. Butter, roast meat, bread, sugar, and the faint sweetness of jam pointed the way as surely as a guiding hand.

Before long, he stopped in front of a still-life painting of fruit.

A huge silver bowl held pears, grapes, plums, and a few peaches that looked far too pleased with themselves. The pear in the middle was especially bright, as if it were waiting for someone to notice it.

"This is the place, all right."

Gavin raised a hand and gently tickled the pear.

It giggled at once, wriggling as it turned into a green door handle.

"The Wizarding World does occasionally show some talent for designing hidden entrances," he murmured.

He took hold of the handle and gave it a gentle turn.

The door opened.

A richer, warmer aroma rolled out, carrying the unmistakable bustle of a working kitchen.

It was brightly lit inside.

Copper pots, iron pans, ovens, long tables, stacks of plates, and House-elves hurrying back and forth, busy at work.

Gavin stood in the doorway, looking into the enormous kitchen that was practically the heart of Hogwarts' operations. At last, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

Then he said, very softly and very earnestly:

"Hogwarts—"

"I've come to bring you a culinary revolution."

He stepped inside.

The kitchen door slowly closed behind him.